


Whatever people tell you about me... I'm not.

by Kuro_Guardian



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, A rebuttal to fandom T'Challa, Also a rebuttal to MCU, But a failed attempt, Gen, I don't trust those guys to logic, NO OOC, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Still no bashing, also curbstomped, steve gets punched in the face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_Guardian/pseuds/Kuro_Guardian
Summary: It is not the obligation of any man or woman to conform to the expectations of others. This is a common truth that yet eludes people on a daily basis. Then again - sometimes it just takes a more direct approach to get the lesson understood.T'Challa owes the Avengers nothing.





	Whatever people tell you about me... I'm not.

1.

 

Sam had known that Steve would come back for them. Of course he would – he’s Captain fucking America. That hadn’t stopped the clenching grip that seized his chest at the sight of the quinjet. Because he has been right – Stark was going to help and it had all worked out. Except it hadn’t… Steve is looking everywhere but at them as he carries a still catatonic Wanda up the ramp. And then Clint is right in his face demanding to know what happened.

It’s easier to sit at the controls and try to figure out the start-up, but everything looks entirely different. “Steve? What’s going on with this? Is it a prototype?” And then it all comes out: Stark let himself get played, T’Challa saw the light, and now they were going to be hiding out in Wankanda. And Clint’s shouting some nonsense regarding futurists, but all Sam can feel is dread.

Nothing good can come from dealing with T’Challa, Sam knows this, but he also knew that Stark would do the right thing. So maybe’s he wrong for all the right reasons… The only issue, is that first encounter with T’Challa had not left the best impression on Sam. And truth be told, the last time he’d gotten a bad impression of someone had been with Stark.

Steve sets a heavy hand on his shoulder that is so warm it might as well be burning. Looking up into those earnest blue eyes is almost painful. Sam fucked up by putting Steve and his friend in danger. He has to accept that, even if there is this lingering feeling of dread. This feeling like he’s missing something or only seeing part of the story…

The sudden squeeze of Steve’s hand is enough to jolt Sam out of his skin. “Hey. You think any harder and you’re going to break something.” The smile he’s being given is so open Sam feels like he’s in open water about to drown. But before he can continue down that track he notices that Steve is still talking.

“It’s not your fault Tony… He. Don’t take on blame that isn’t your own.” And there’s a joke there. Something about pots and kettles and whatever. What Sam manages to cough up instead is something just to the side of a grimace. Thankfully –or not – Steve is distracted by Clint’s ranting and Wanda’s sudden wailing.

The voice inside that made him join up with Steve back in DC. That voice that had him leading veterans through circle time. The very same voice that sometimes asks him why he didn’t double check Reilly’s gear before they left out. That damn pest thinks he should probably do something, but – Sam finds himself stumbling out of the pilot chair toward one of the passenger seats. 

Tilting it back takes a couple of tries, but soon enough he’s examining the far wall and hoping his feelings regarding T’Challa aren’t prescient. Across the way Scott studies his feet with an intensity that promises nothing but trouble. And trouble can take care of itself. Sam rolls over and tries to shut off his mind. It’ll be fine. Steve wouldn’t let them down.

Or at the least he would try not to let them down, but Sam was right. T’Challa looks at them like they’re a pile of worm infested shit. “I did not say you could bring them here Captain. I owe neither them nor yourself anything. The only person I have wronged is Barnes. And I am doing my best by him.” Clint tries to get aggressive and finds himself face down on the burning how tarmac. 

And suddenly Sam finds himself speaking. Doesn’t even know what’s passing his lips – just knows there must be something funny going on, because Scott is frowning and Steve is wearing his “concerned” face and T’Challa is all but rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you even a little sorry about doing this to us?” And the prince – king actually – folds his arms before looking down his nose at him.

“No. It is not my fault you presume certain actions of me – I never had any intention of being your savior.”

 

2.

 

“Fine, but we’re not going to get anywhere without fuel and supplies and funds!” Clint growls as he tries to lift his head up off the ground. It’s easier than acknowledging how his shoulder want to creep up toward his ears. Easier than acknowledging that the only thing he wants right now is to crawl into his bed. But fuck knows if he still has a bed. Stark knew about the fucking far,. Knew about his fucking family. Shit.

That asshole T’Challa is saying something smart to that shrink Steve insisted on bringing along. “What the fuck ever. Can I get off this blacktop before I’m roasted a golden brown?” He doesn’t mean for the strain to enter his voice, but then again Clint hasn’t meant for a lot of things to happen. Like losing his family and his cushy retirement in bumfuck nowhere because Rogers needed his security blanket.

The weight on his back shifts just enough to thread a bright line of pain through both shoulders while leaving his hands numb. “Enough. Get off him. At least his demand is more reasonable than Mr. Rogers.” And if that traitor Stark were here this would be the time for a witty quip or some banter. Instead…

Instead Wanda is flickering like a live wire, the rando with the hard-on for Cap is looking for an escape route, the head shrink is shutting down, and Rogers has that fucking look on his face. Nothing good comes of that face. The last time Rogers had been wearing that face the sky was filled with fucking aliens and Hydra bastards were getting ready to glass the entirety of NYC.

And fuck it – none of this is what he signed up for. He was there to help save the day. Not to fight Tasha or save some lab freak suffering permanent ‘Nam flashbacks. “Okay, look. I don’t give a fuck what you guys are fighting over. I just need 1500 bucks and some sort of vehicle. I can figure the rest out once someone takes a look at my bow.” And that’s fucking reasonable, right?

“No. You do not have the right to demand anything of me or mine. You should not even be here. If you had any sense you would have stayed at the Raft and waited – as it is your previous arrangement has fallen through and you are now fugitives.” That’s a lot of words to say “fuck you”, but smart guys were always going out of their way to show how smart they are.

He can feel the back of his neck heating up. Can feel himself gearing up for a fight. A fight he can’t win. They’ve already taken him down like a chump before, but he doesn’t deserve this. He came out to help a friend, it’s not his fault Stark is so damn thin-skinned. Not his fault that the great and wonderful Captain America sucks at critical thinking. Not his fault T’Challa is a smerga smeared bellend of a bastard.

“If you weren’t looking to help then why the fuck did you lend Steve a fucking jet? Why is Barnes sitting cozy with ya’ll?” And it’s stupid – but Clint is getting pissed. There’s a reason Coulson and Tasha were his partners in SHIELD. He has a god awful temper and that look of disdain on T’Challa’s face isn’t helping anything. “Besides I just need some money and a ride – I’m not trying to move in with you or anything!”

The girl on his right has settled into an attack stance. The girl to left of what’s his face… Sam. Yeah, Sam. That girl has her hand reaching behind her. Probably for a knife – speaking of which Clint could kick himself for not having stashed his recovered knives back on himself. He’s not even wearing his gloves which at least have brass caps in the knuckles. Fuck.

And then T’Challa slides one foot back and Clint knows this over. Taking him down would take a lot more than Clint can give. “I believe you all are mistaken. I am not your sponsor – I lent your captain a jet so that he might fly to a safe space.” And here the dark man shoots a look of open disgust at Steve. “What he was supposed to do was set the auto-pilot and get off the plane. It would have returned and our association would be at an end. You were never supposed to come here. You are not wanted.”

 

3.

 

“What is wrong with you?” And her voice is hoarse from the screams – both the ones she swallowed and the ones she had finally released on the plane. This is Stark’s fault. Of course it is – he did this to her. But – he could only do this because people let him. Cowards. They were cowards who let that monster do what he wanted because he had money and made their insipid toys. And here was another one, one who had tricked poor naïve Steve.

“You are a monster like Stark! Another murderer who pretends to logic and decency, when all you care about is lording over people.” And there is so much more to say, but one of the women standing by moves. They cannot be normal people. Otherwise how is she on her knees trying to breathe past the pain? But they are mistaken if they think she will take this. She is not a child any longer – she has powers too.

There is a moment when the world is covered in red as though bleeding. And then she is trying to scream again as that damn collar or its twin closes around her slender throat. The world whites out and then comes back as she buries her powers, buries her gift as deep inside as she can. There is cursing and shouting, but it matters not at all because she will never be free. All that happens is that she trades one jailer for another over and over again.

It takes a moment to realize that someone is kneeling beside her or rather it takes a moment to realize that the person kneeling beside her is Steve’s other betrayer. “Be still and listen. Whatever your opinions I am not a monster. I would not have you wear this collar – but I am not made of stone. To be King is to serve. And if my people do not feel safe with you unless you are collared then collared you will remain.”

And what can she possibly say to that? She doesn’t even try. Instead she spits in his face and it’s with a bright, bloody grin that she loses conscious as her head is harshly introduced to the ground. Her last conscious thought is to wonder at the strength of a super-human punch. ‘Perhaps Stark is finally dead if he had to fight two super humans.”

 

4.

 

Scott doesn’t even bother trying anything. Unlike Tony Stark he’s nothing without his suit. Just a washed up con who can’t even keep his word to his daughter. Maggie is going to kill him – if Hope and her dad don’t get to him first. But yeah… The only person close to his level, Hawkeye, got taken down like a damn chump.

Although it doesn’t seem to have taught him anything if his struggles to attack T’Challa are any indication. Not that like T’Challa’s punch to Wanda’s face was okay… I mean you don’t spit in a guy’s face, but still dudes aren’t supposed to hit ladies or whatever. Dudes aren’t supposed to steal shit either or destroy public property so… Fuck.

Steve is giving another speech about life, liberty, and the American Way now. Or he was – now he’s trying to bury his fist in panther guy’s face. “God. This is so pointless. It’s too hot for stupid shit.” The apparent ninja lady behind him gives a strangely appealing snort and giggle combo. “At least one of you is not a fool. Or not as big of one at least.” And she’s not wrong.

Why is he here? Because being called by Captain America’s sidekick is cool and all, but he’s on fucking probation and he has like obligations/responsibilities and shit. So why is he in what appears to be the sun’s ass crack? He could be snuggled up to Hope right now… Could be trying to get Hank to laugh or listening to one of Luis stories. Not with these losers.

Then again – how many people can say they watched Captain America get his ass kicked by the Black Panther? Although the better term might be curb stomped. “Stay down Captain.” The king is looking less than amused. Although he hasn’t even broken a sweat something about his faces screams exhaustion. It worsens as Clint opens his fat mouth.

“So much for being a man of peace. Let me guess – you’re another fucking futurist? Well damn if I don’t feel safe!” T’Challa looks like he’s ready to permanently fix Clint’s little red wagon. He might have to haul ass to beat his “body guards” to it tho. “You are mistaken. I am not a man of peace. That was my father – one of the many victims of your actions. I’d advise you not to push me past civility. I lack my father’s mercy and Dr. Stark’s generosity.”

 

5.

 

It’s taken a week to get close enough to the King and Natasha is less than happy about that. As it is she only has five minutes at best to chat him up enough to gain entrance to the rest of the team. If Stark would just come around she wouldn’t have to do all of this. Then again if Stark were reasonable she never would have had an in with him. Most reasonable people are understandably weary of dealing with spies. Something about not being able to trust them.

But there isn’t time to woolgather. Sliding out of her hiding spot she drops down beside him – and immediately pitches over with a grunt as her kneecap is shot out. Someone kneels on her back while something that might be a tourniquet is wrapped above her knee. If it were possible she’d kick herself. Of course it was a trap. There is no way they’d leave the oldest heir so accessible, especially not so soon after their last king was assassinated. 

“Your Highness. I apologize if I startled you, but it’s imperative that I speak with Captain Rogers and his team.” Allowing at least some of her pain to touch her voice might be putting too fine a point of things, but doing otherwise will not endear her to her possible captors. She needs them to underestimate her, but then again she’s not too sure she hasn’t overestimated herself. After all she’s the one lying face down with busted knee in a shallow pool of her own blood. 

The woman kneeling on her back says something that sounds less than kind. There is the rumble of T’Challa’s voice and then a murmur that might be an apology. Either way the weight lifts off, but before Natasha can take advantage of that she is snatched up and held in such a way that the slightest resistance on her part leads to weight being applied to her bad leg. It only takes a moment to realize that she is hosed.

“Good. You realize your position and accept it. Of course, you were one of the smarter individuals on your team.” It’s a backhanded compliment if that and it’s about what she deserves. She played this badly from start to finish. She should have been working with Maria Hill. She should have kept Clint out of things. She should have been working more on Rogers than Stark. 

Wanda was a mistake born of the kind of sentiment that should have been beaten out of her ages ago. Falcon was a mistake born of listening to Rogers when she should have listened to herself. Barnes should have been eliminated ages ago. If Coulson could get his hands on her he’d rightfully beat some sense into her. Fury would just cut her loose to deal with the messes she’s made or helped to make…

  
Fuck. “What are you going to do with me?” Looking up at T’Challa face kills any hope she has of making it out with her hide intact. It must show because a grin spreads across his face that promises nothing good.

  
“I am not sure why Dr. Stark decided to allow you you’re delusions and manipulations. However, I have no intention of allowing the same. You will receive medical care and then you will be locked in specially reinforced cell until your trial. Or perhaps I should say trials. There appears to be some confusion as to why you were not tried some years ago for the incident in Washington.”

  
There is a moment to gape and then the world stutters as she is tasered with her own Widow bites. It seems to go on forever, before it stops and exhaustion starts to pull her under. Strong fingers grasp her chin so that their eyes meet. “Never forget that I am not a puppet for anyone to control. Least of all you.” And then a sharp prick at her neck darkens the world to black.


End file.
